


Home

by TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Family, Gen, Happy Ending, Heaven, Home, Impala 67, SPN fanart, Team Free Will 2.0, happy birthday baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23818831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen/pseuds/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen
Summary: April 24th 1967 - Happy Birthday Baby“And I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And, well... isn't that kinda the whole point?”After the end, once weary heads are laid to rest and they cry no more, our heroes enjoy a well earned rest. But there is one more member of the family that still needs to come home...[MCD tag because this fic is set in heaven, but don’t worry: they all deserve a happy ending 🤗💛]
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Baby
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to the most important object in pretty much the whole universe 🤗💛

—o0o—

She just wasn’t right.

It was the little things that clued him in; the way the seat didn’t curve to his back. The way the grooves on the steering wheel felt strange to his fingers. The pitch of her door creek that was half a tone off. Her purr wasn’t low enough and she didn’t bite into the corners like she used to.

It was the little things. Things no one else would notice. No one else but him.

Life was good in heaven since Cas and Jack had re-ordered.

Him and Sam had their own place. They met up with old friends most evenings at the Roadhouse. Mom and Dad were busy on their 5th honeymoon but they stopped in now and then to say hi. The only thing Dean missed was his Baby. This fake-Baby would never be as good as his girl.

—o0o—

This morning Dean was sitting at the table eyeing the culprit of his bad mood who was parked obnoxiously right outside the kitchen window.

It was the start of another perfect day. Sam was doing crosswords, Dean’s coffee was hot and richly bitter, and the smell of bacon was wafting from a well-stacked plate. A golden sun in an azure sky beckoned him to take the car and cruise the open roads, feel the wind in his face and the rumble of tyres on asphalt as classic rock filled the air … but he just couldn’t.

The sigh he huffed into his coffee was dramatically melancholy.

Sam put down his pen on top of the neatly folded paper and blinked hazel eyes at his brother. “This again?” he pushed his hair off his forehead following his brother’s utterly dejected gaze to look out of the window at the beautiful day.

“It ain’t right Sam.” Dean muttered belligerently, continuing to glare at the object of his discontent. The thing was mocking him, sunlight glinting merrily from her smug curves.

Though this was an old complaint Dean would have been more than happy to reiterate his every grievance, in great detail - but thankfully for Sam’s patience Cas chose that moment to pop in. Literally.

The angel seemed to have forgotten how to use doors now that they were no longer permanent residents of the mortal coil.

“Hello Dean. Hello Sam” Cas intoned as his arrival caused a flutter of displaced air. His greeting was stoic as ever but a small grin creased the corners of his cheeks and squinted his bright blue eyes. “I have good news.”

The two men on opposite sides of the small kitchen table turned in unison towards their friend, identical expressions of expectation on their faces.

“I have just returned from Earth!” The angel looked pleased at his announcement but neither brother had any clue what the dramatic pause was supposed to signify.

Cas could - and did - return to Earth whenever he desired. It was always nice to hear how the younger hunters were getting on. And as far as they knew, no one had faced any world shattering catastrophes recently. Continuous apocalypses were a thing of the past now that Jack had the natural order running smoothly.

“And…?” Dean finally prompted, lifting his coffee to take a sip of the rich blend that was still the perfect drinking temperature. (Coffee didn’t go cold in heaven, beer never got warm and the supply of bacon was inexhaustible.)

“... And…” the angel allowed his face to morph into one of his rare full-on grins, “I dropped the Impala into a car crusher.”

Stunned silence hit the room like a boulder hitting the bottom of a deep well. Sam looked from his friend - still grinning in delight, his black hair wild above a smile full of straight white teeth, his shoulders thrown back and proud within his rumpled trench coat complete with his eternally twisted blue tie - then over to his brother who sat at a quaint wooden kitchen table, warm sunlight glinting gold through the soft spikes of his hair, one plaid covered elbow resting casually on the tabletop while a forgotten mug dangled from slack fingers. The coffee was threatening to spill and Dean's stunned green eyes were threatening to consume his whole face.

And Sam’s mind was blank. He searched valiantly for an appropriate response, his brow furrowing and his eyes taking on that concerned slant as they flicked between the angel and his older brother. He couldn’t figure out why Cas thought _that_ would be something Dean wanted to hear… but more urgently he was trying to figure out how to forestall angel-cide once Dean’s mind re-booted.

Dean was currently enjoying a Epcot level rollercoaster of emotions. At first there was denial - the Angel was crazy or mistaken. Then came anger - his Baby?! Cas had done what to his Baby? (this phase lasted for a while). Bargaining was pointless - even if he could get back to Earth he couldn’t rebuild her after a car crusher. Depression would certainly be a very real option. But strangely enough he was struggling with acceptance for reasons _other_ than the obvious.

The problem wasn’t so much that Cas had destroyed his Baby. It’s not like he had ever wanted anyone else driving her around and messing her up. The thought of another person’s hands caressing her steering wheel or messing about under her hood, left him cold - and if he couldn’t have her, no one would!

...but a car crusher??

“Seriously dude?” He was on his feet and pacing, the coffee mug dumped on the table before it’s contents could escape and his hands now free to rake through his hair. Heavy boots clomped to a stop as he swivelled to glare at his friend, both hands gripping hard to the spikes on top of his head, his emerald eyes narrowed into a look that made gods and monsters flee in terror.

“ _A car crusher?_ Why would ya…!” Hands left his hair to gesture wildly. “You could have, I dunno, driven her off a cliff or something! She wouldn’t have minded that. Going out in a blaze of glory… but _this_!” The last word was the dangerous hiss of a fuse almost down to the powder keg and Sam tensed ready to physically leap between the two if needed.

“I think what Dean _meant_ to ask,” Sam interjected verbally before Dean could blow. His interruption caused two pairs of eyes to turn laser focus to him instead of each other, “...what he meant is ‘Why?’ Cas.”

Dean paused as he eyed his brother. The dimples of discontent stayed framed about his mouth but a grudging look of consideration entered green eyes. Dean hadn’t been asking Cas why he had destroyed Baby; the hunter had moved over the fact of his beloved car’s destruction, to niggle at the minor details. The douchie-ness of using a car crusher. But as usual Sam’s question cut right to the heart of the matter, the motive.

The scowl squeezing Dean’s face refused to leave just yet, but hard jade eyes met sapphire blue, implying that the angel could have a minute to explain.

59 seconds. 58… 

“Dean...” Cas squinted slightly as his head tilted a fraction. He wasn’t perturbed by Dean’s caveman act, he knew his friend too well - that’s not to say that Dean wasn’t pissed, he in fact looked to be extremely pissed, but he was hardly about to start stabbing friends… table lamps however might fear for their lives if the Angel didn’t start explaining soon.

Humans! Still after all this time they perplexed him. Not only were they not sharing his happiness but they didn’t even understand his gift. These men had defeated God himself but apparently the mechanism of entering the afterlife was too complex for them. It was kind of marvellous when you thought about it, how they could be brilliantly inventive but frustratingly dense both at the same time.

Sam cleared his throat and Cas realised that he had slipped into his old habit of staring (head still tilted) but as he looked more closely at his friend he noticed the slight movement of plush lips indicating that the man was counting… probably backwards, and his brows looked more thunderous by the second.

“Ah,” Cas interjected quickly, “because the easiest way into heaven is to die.”

The silence that filled the kitchen was once again stunned.

It was Sam who broke it. “Cas… it’s a car. It can’t die.”

“Not normally no.” The look the angel gave the humans was patient. “I admit that automobiles don’t usually qualify for an afterlife. But when has anything with you two ever been normal.” The smallest smile creased one corner of his mouth, a subtle tease to break the tension.

Dean seemed to ignore the levity, concentrating instead on figuring out the details. “But how?”

“There are certain metaphysical circumstances…” Only 5 words had left the angel’s mouth but Dean was already back to scowling, though Cas knew for a fact that the human understood all those words perfectly. He sighed and amended his explanation anyway. “It’s like a Tulpa.”

“My baby ain’t a Tulpa!”

“No. But some spells don’t require specific incantations. With enough blood, enough intent and a few well-placed arcane symbols, it is possible to bring into being something which wouldn’t otherwise exist.”

Sam had been thinking hard and a sudden smile creased his face, carving deep dimples into his cheeks as his sunflower eyes lit up with mirth. “Dean _loved_ his car into existence?” He rocked back in his chair, threw his head back and laughed. Loudly.

“Hey!” Dean protested over Sam’s braying, “Don’t say it like that! M’ Baby’s a classy lady! No funny business.” 

Sam ignored the scowl that was aimed at him, still laughing between words as he worked through the rest of the theory. “So what? A couple of decades of spilled Winchester blood, Deans tender loving affection...” 

(“if they have Nair in heaven Sam, I will find it!”)

“...and one car crusher later, and the impala gets a pass through the pearly gates?”

“Yes!” Cas’ grin returned as the tension level in the room flushed away like water down a drain, replaced by Sam’s mirth although confusion still lingered behind Dean’s good natured exasperation at his brother. 

Rather than explain further the Angel simply gestured towards the sleek black machine waiting serenely outside of the window.

“That?!” Dean spat, his lip curling in contempt, “that ain’t m’ Baby. That’s Fake-Baby!”

“Feel free to see for yourself.” The response from the angel was mild but the words had hardly left his mouth before Dean was replaced by a plaid coloured blur, the kitchen door slamming open and bouncing back off the door frame.

Sam rose more sedately to his feet as happy exclamations began to ring from outside. “Thank you Cas.” Long arms reached out to pull his friend into a warm hug. “Seriously. Thank you.” 

The fact that Sam would now be able to enjoy his crosswords in peace was only a minor part of his gratitude. But still...

The rumble of an engine roaring to life filled the kitchen and the tall hunter and the angel separated enough to share a fond eye roll before rushing out through the door and scrambling to take their places in the passenger seats.

—o0o—

Dean was in heaven. 

The rumble of his Baby’s purr was pitch perfect. Soft black vinyl cradled his back and thighs in a hug shaped by decades. His hands curved around her steering wheel like a lover returned from the war.

(“Should we give you two a moment?”

“Shut it Sammy!”)

As he pressed his foot to the floor she leapt onto the endless highways of heaven. A thundering charge with the heart and speed of a thousand wild stallions. Every corner and every turn a symphony in motion, every shift and surge in perfect harmony with his very lightest touch. 

Fresh air rushed past the open windows, clean but never cold. The sun blazed in an endless blue sky, warm but never scorching. And the open highway stretched into forever through rolling grasslands, not a pothole or a police car to be found. The notes of Zeppelin dancing through the air as the man sang at the top of his voice - his brother and his best friend laughing and jostling at his side. Even Jack found time to spare from running the universe, to join his family for a drive through the countryside. 

And Dean knew that he was home.

FIN

—o0o—


End file.
